


Lullaby

by Etalice



Series: Drarryland 2019 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Draco and Harry growing old together, Drarryland: A Drarry Game/Fest, Fluff, M/M, Story of their first kiss, gratuitous amounts of french, just pure fluff, letter format
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-04
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2020-01-04 14:37:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18345680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etalice/pseuds/Etalice
Summary: My darling little one,You must think your grand-papa very silly to write you a whole letter when you’re barely old enough to talk and won’t be reading for years yet, but humour an old man, ma chérie, for age has made me realise I may very well die tomorrow without having said all the things I wanted to say.And if I died, who then would tell you about me and your grandad?In which Draco and Harry spend three months surviving in a forest then grow old together.





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Betaed by the very lovely [Goldfwish](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfwish/)
> 
> _As it turns out, trudging through a dangerous landscape using an incomplete map as a guide, in search of something terribly important for *reasons*, carrying a poorly packed bag, with nothing but my partner and our wits was not the best idea. Pick either: ~~1) Stranded~~ -OR- ~~2) Pirates~~ -OR- 3) Treasure Hunting - Must be written in First Person Point of View. Maximum 930 words. ___

My darling little one,

You must think your _grand-papa_ very silly to write you a whole letter when you’re barely old enough to talk and won’t be reading for years yet, but humour an old man, _ma chérie_ , for age has made me realise I may very well die tomorrow without having said all the things I wanted to say.

And if I died, who then would tell you about me and your grandad? Oh, your mum may try, but she’ll forget all the important details and it wouldn’t be as good a story as if I told it myself. So settle down, my little love, because this here is the story of how I fell in love with your grandad.

Your grandad and I, we didn’t always love each other. We didn’t always like each other, in fact. Don’t hold it against us, _ma puce_ , the world was very different then, and we were different people too. I never expected to meet him again after the war, and then he showed up at my door on a chilly April evening and demanded that I go on a wild goose chase with him.

He had his reasons for asking me, of course. Do you remember _Bonne Maman Cissy_ , darling? You used to love eating apricots in the garden of her house in _Roussillon_ and she spoiled you rotten for a good two years before she died. She was married once, long before you were born. Her husband, Lucius, my father - he wasn’t a very good man. He had artifacts in his possession, before he died. Dark, dangerous, powerful artifacts. And you must understand, _mon chaton_ , there were dark, dangerous, powerful people back then who would have done horrible things with those artifacts. And this, in essence, is why grandad asked for my help: to find those objects, to destroy them, to ensure that peace remained.

I’m still not entirely sure why I agreed. I had sins to atone for, of course - I didn’t do everything right, during the war, _mon_ _cœur_ , and there are regrets that I will take to the grave - but this is not the whole reason. You may think of him only as an old man now, but your grandad was breathtakingly gorgeous in the cool, crisp light of April, he really was, with his deep green eyes and his awful hair. I’d have followed the man anywhere.

And so follow the man everywhere, I did. The expedition was a disaster. You grandad is a great man, _ma chérie_ , perhaps greater than you’ll ever realise, but for all his virtues, careful planning has never been one of them. This is how we found ourselves in a Swiss forest with nothing but a collection of incomplete memories your grandad had managed to extract from an old acquaintance of my father and half a pack of crackers for sustenance. It really is a testimony to the power of love that I didn’t murder him there and then.

We spent three months in that forest. We fought a good deal then too, but your grandad, he was always fair and strong and he never gave up. He could have, you know, he could have just gone home and decided it wasn’t his problem what my father had or hadn’t hidden in that forest. He never did, and I admired him endlessly for it.

 _Mon trésor_ , by the time you read this letter you’ll surely have read stories about how love changes people. Perhaps you won’t believe them at all, I know I never did, but right then in that forest, your grandad changed me. It wasn’t good, of course it wasn’t, we were cold and miserable and lost but we were doing the right thing. For the first time in my entire life, I wanted to keep on doing the right thing, for him. I wanted to be better, to be worthy of his consideration, of his time - of his friendship even.

It took me by surprise when your grandad kissed me. We were covered in dirt, then, and drenched in sweat. We’d finally found the first of the artifacts and had a solid lead on where to find the others. We were elated by the perspective of a warm meal and a soft bed, and this is the moment he chose to pin me against a tree and cover my mouth with his. And in this instant, _ma puce_ , I’d have agreed to spending my entire life in that godforsaken forest if it meant I could keep him. I loved him fiercely, then - I had loved him in silence for months.

I still love him, you know, even after all this time. I loved him through the aftermath of the war. I loved him the first time he took your mum in his arms and cried. I loved him when your mum grew up, moved out, married your dad. I’ll love him until my very last breath because his eyes are still the same shade of green, his hair still the same horrifying bird’s nest it always was - I should have expected that his scalp would steadfastly refuse to go bald.

We are lucky men, your grandad and I. Lucky that we found each other, lucky that we were allowed to have each other for so many long years, lucky to have you, our grandchild, to spoil with sweets and stories. I wish that you are this lucky too, one day.

Until then,

Love,

Your _grand-papa_ Draco.


End file.
